A Helping Hand

“I’ve come for you, Bobby McGuire. I’m taking you to Krampus, where you’ll pay for your bad behavior,” said the Coalbringer.

“Bobby Who? I don’t know anyone named Bobby McGuire. You must have the wrong home,” said the lad.

“Nonsense, I’m tired of you children lying and squirming to get out of paying your dues to Krampus. Now let’s be off,” cried the beast.

“Sir, I swear on the Holy Trinity that I am not Bobby McGuire,” said the boy.

The creature looked confused. The Holy Trinity, you say? Well, you must be telling the truth, or else your tongue would have burst into flames,” the Coalbringer said.

“Perhaps you’ll have luck at the next home down the lane,” said the boy.

“Many thanks, lad, you seem like a good boy. I’m certain Father Christmas will bring you a fine load of gifts,” the beast said.

The Coalbringer apologized and left the home.

“I am not Bobby McGuire. My name is Richard Charles Montague McGuire, the third. I would never allow someone to call me Bobby,” said the lad with a wry smile.

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